


Bad Habits

by PunkyPenguin



Series: The Only Thing That Matters [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Otabek Altin, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Break Up, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mental Instability, Post-Break Up, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkyPenguin/pseuds/PunkyPenguin
Summary: They'd been together for almost eight years when Yuri had uttered the words Otabek had long stopped being afraid of hearing – because he honestly felt like nothing would ever break them apart."I can't be with you anymore, Beka. I'm in love with someone else."





	Bad Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this is the first time I've ever written something that doesn't have a happy end, so please bear with me! :D
> 
> A big thank you to [Jellyfish_Tacos](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellyfish_Tacos/) for beta-ing <3
> 
> Enjoy~

Otabek cursed as he threw another empty bottle across the living room from where he was positioned on the floor and heard it shatter. The TV blared into the darkness, the bright, artificial lights being the only thing illuminating the room. The pile of glass had been steadily growing bigger the past weeks, but he hadn't been bothered to clean it up yet. Just like he hadn't bothered to shower for days, or eat a decent meal. He could smell his own musk through his shirt and a thickening stubble decorated his cheeks and chin. Yet, he didn't care. He'd stopped caring about much at lately. Why care about anyone or anything when no one or nothing cared about you in return? 

Deep down, he knew that that was just a lie that his mind was feeding him; the countless missed calls and unread texts were proof of that, yet he couldn't convince his mind to let anyone help him in his suffering. He'd rather endure the pain on his own than have them carry the burden with him. 

With a shaky breath, Otabek got up. The world spun so heavily he had to grip the back of his couch to keep himself upright. He'd had drunk way too much already and he knew it, but he wasn't numb enough. Not yet. But he knew that another half a bottle of the closest liquor he could find would fix that problem for him. A sour, painful scoff left his throat. _"If only liquor could solve all of my problems."_  

Unsteady legs carried him to the kitchen, his hands grabbing onto the wall and different pieces of furniture for support. Otabek kept all of his liquor in the same cabinet, so it was rather easy for his intoxicated mind to locate the stash. The small wooden door swung open with a loud bang as his large, clammy hands found their purpose: a small bottle of whiskey. The cheap kind, obviously. Taste was a luxury Otabek couldn't afford. 

Slowly – and surprisingly without tripping over his own feet – Otabek made his way back to his uncomfortable spot on the floor, back against the front of the couch with his legs drawn up against his chest. An angry flick of his wrist opened the bottle, which was instantly brought to his dry lips to take a few big gulps. The liquor burned as it made its way down his throat and added to how the world spun, but again, he didn't care. Anything was better than the pain and loneliness that had enveloped him since Yuri had left. 

They'd been together for almost eight years when Yuri had dropped the bomb: he had fallen in love with someone else, and loved them more than he loved Otabek. 

Otabek knew that their relationship hadn't been the same ever since he retired early from competitive figure skating due to a nasty fall during training in which he'd busted his knee. Yuri had taken care of him after his surgery, promised him everything would be okay; that nothing would change even when he retired. Another dark scoff fell from Otabek's lips. _"I was such an idiot_ _."_   

Of course things changed. Otabek would wait at home while Yuri left early and came home late from his trainings instead of training together. He would mindlessly mix music, re-read the books he'd already read a dozen times, clean the house, and fix dinner for Yuri to heat up in the microwave as soon as he came home from practice. Their quality time together had changed from quick, sneaky make-out sessions during lunch break to 'I'm too tired, let's just go to sleep'. But it had all gone so gradually that he hadn't even noticed until it was too late. 

How could he have missed the way Yuri would shy away from his touches and kisses? Why didn’t he realize sooner that their sex lives had been reduced to almost zero, and the hugs and kisses they so frequently shared had become a rarity? Otabek blamed himself for not seeing how Yuri would slowly spend more and more time on his phone than in Otabek's arms, and the way he sometimes smiled brightly before frantically typing away. Otabek felt like he had been blind to all the signs that Yuri was unhappy.  And Otabek had hated himself for letting it get that far. 

And then, Yuri had uttered the words he'd long stopped being afraid of hearing – because he honestly felt like nothing would ever break them apart.   
  
_"I can't be with you anymore, Beka. I'm in love with someone else."_  

Their breakup had been just as passionate and wild as their lovemaking. Pleas and tears had turned into white-hot anger, screaming, and pieces of shattered pictures on the floor. The very same day Yuri had cleaned out his closets, stuffing everything he wanted to take into a few large duffel-bags, and left. Otabek had been left alone, tears running down his cheeks as Yuri had slammed the door behind him without even a glance. 

Otabek had assumed that Yuri would move in with Milla and Sara, or Viktor and Yuuri for a while, but how naive had he been. It was only a few days later when Otabek spotted the first pictures on Instagram: Yuri's sultry look alongside a pair of hooded blue-gray eyes as the blonde's pink lips nipped at an earlobe; a nest of black hair splayed against his pale chest; mirror-selfies in nothing but a much-too-large shirt with the Canadian flag proudly on the front; Yuri holding hands and exchanging happy smiles with someone who Otabek had always believed to be a friend. Jean-Jacques Leroy.  

From the intimate positions of almost all pictures, Otabek knew for a fact that Yuri and JJ had been seeing each other even before the relationship with Otabek had ended. The realization of being cheated on had crushed Otabek's heart even more, the pain of being betrayed stronger than he could have ever imagined. He hated Yuri. He hated himself more. 

Otabek's initial response consisted of sinking to the floor in a sobbing mess, hands clawing angrily at his hair. As if Yuri leaving him hadn't been bad enough on its own. Otabek probably would have been able to handle it being anyone _but_  one of his few friends. Why did it have to be JJ, of all people?  

Days later, Otabek had found the courage to text his former friend. A simple 'Why?', nothing more. He trusted JJ to be smart enough to understand what he meant. The message had been instantly read, but it wasn't until hours later that he got a reply from the Canadian:  _"Sorry_ _man, it just happened. You should have taken better care of him."_  

In a sudden flare of blinding rage, Otabek had smashed his phone against the wall, grabbed a bottle of Yuri's favorite vodka, and finished its contents. Only half an hour later he had been close to passing out in the middle of the living room floor, the world spinning violently with even the smallest movement of his tear-shot eyes. The numbness that had settled in his being had been a very welcome sensation, and for the first time in close to two weeks, Otabek had slept for more than three hours that night. 

After that first time, the routine of waking up with a massive hangover and going to sleep intoxicated had started. Anything was better than allowing himself to feel the hole in his chest that Yuri had left. Anything was better than seeing pictures of Yuri on the cracked screen of his phone, his pale, naked body snuggled up against the firmer shape of JJ in bed, spending their days off just lounging around. Just like _they_  had done. It honestly felt like Yuri had been posting those pictures on purpose, to show Otabek what he had lost. 

Otabek found himself drinking more as the weeks went by; his body quickly got used to the insane amounts of alcohol in his system. The only time that he was somewhat sober was when he'd run out of liquor and had to run to the store to buy more. He would look like a mess, but the teenagers behind the counter never cared enough to inquire about this state and his purchases consisting of a few bottles of strong liquor and microwave meals.  

He'd started taking care of himself less. Otabek, who had always taken pride in keeping himself well-groomed, freshly washed, and smelling of his favorite cologne, slowly turned into a miserable ball of sweat, grease, un-brushed teeth, and facial hair. Whenever he looked in the mirror, he would barely even recognize himself. His eyes had turned hallow and dull, like the light had been sucked out of them. Dark circles ran under them, and his face was thinner than Otabek ever remembered it being.  

Yet Otabek didn't care. He'd stopped caring about how he looked or smelled a long time ago. He'd stopped caring about the "friends" that were trying to get a hold of him with worried voicemail messages and texts. If he was honest, he'd stopped caring about life altogether, and all that mattered was filling the bleeding cracks in his heart with alcohol. 

A few weeks later, competitions had started. Against his better knowledge, Otabek had watched each and every performance of his ex-lover. It was a mistake, and he knew it. But he _needed_ to see Yuri. He _wanted_ to watch him skate to the new theme he had announced after his breakup with Otabek: soulmates. During each skate, Otabek would watch the perfection of Yuri's movements and the tranquil expressions gracing his face. Each time, it would leave Otabek a sobbing, broken mess. Not solely because of the performance, but also because Yuri seemed happier than he had looked in years. 

Yuri's green eyes would shine after each performance, a true smile present on those perfect, pink lips. And again, Otabek hated himself for not noticing Yuri's pain when they were still together. He'd watch Yuri fervently texting as he sat in the kiss-and-cry every time, most likely bragging to his new lover about breaking yet another high score while the other had to skate on a different continent. And each time, Otabek would get a little more wasted after seeing the former love of his life. 

It wasn't until the Grand Prix Finals that things turned south even faster. Because for this competition, Yuri and JJ would face off as competitors. Otabek had noticed the glances that were exchanged between the two of them in the quiet moments before each had to skate. He'd also noticed the joy on each of their faces afterwards, and how they held hands while waiting for their scores to roll in. He noticed every touch, stare, blush, and smile, because he knew where to look for them. Because once, that had been them. 

Once, a lifetime ago. 

And now, as Otabek stared at the screen, the bottle of whiskey permanently attached to his lips, he felt like he could die. Both Yuri and JJ had skated the season of their lives, breaking world records with their performances. It wasn't surprising that Yuri had been rewarded with a gold medal hanging around his neck, and JJ sported an equally shiny silver one. 

But what broke Otabek's heart all over again, was how his former lover and former friend shared the center after the Russian anthem finished playing, their arms locked behind the other's back in a firm hold. Otabek watched how Yuri yanked the tall Canadian down by his jacket, whispered something against his lips with a smirk before crushing them together. Camera flashes highlighted their faces, but both of them seemed lost in the kiss they shared. This was their season, and it would go down in history as one of the best, the 'season of Yuri Plisetsky and Jean-Jacques Leroy'. 

It should have been 'Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin'.  

This was the season where Otabek had planned to do the craziest thing he could think of. He'd had it completely figured out in his mind. After Yuri would inevitably win a golden medal and after listening to the familiar anthem, Otabek would have walked over. He would wear clothes that Yuri loved seeing him in; dark jeans with a black dress shirt. The top buttons would be left open to tease and draw those emerald eyes to him. And then, when Yuri and whoever came in second and third place were posing for the press, he would do it: take Yuri's hand in his, give him a sappy speech of how the fierce Russian had been the best thing to ever happen to him. They would look into each other's eyes, forgetting the world around them, and hold the gaze as Otabek would lower himself to one knee and pop the question he'd been meaning to ask for so long: _"Will you marry me?"_  

The crowd would go crazy, the press would capture the moment on live, international television, and it would be known as the most romantic scene of the year – maybe decade.  

But instead, Otabek threw the half empty bottle of whiskey at his TV with a loud, guttural yell. The LCD screen cracked as the bottle shattered to pieces, and the crackling sound of electricity running through fluid filled the room. It was silent, if not for the deep sobs coming from Otabek's mouth. He let himself fall over and curled up into a ball on the floor, hands gripping his hair hard enough to pull a few strands from it. But he welcomed the pain. 

Slowly the sobs quieted, though Otabek had lost any sense of time. His body was shaking as he wrapped his arms tightly around his knees and pulled them to his chest. His heart was breaking all over again, and he had no idea how to handle the pain. So he was glad when exhaustion and intoxication finally started to get a hold of his mind. His red, swollen eyes slid closed, his mind numbing and chest heaving with an occasional sob. He didn't want to deal with this pain. He'd rather drink himself to death than face the harsh reality of moving on without Yuri.  

Yuri was gone and he wouldn't come back. And though it had taken a while, Otabek had realized he truly couldn't live without Yuri. Death sounded peaceful compared to life without Yuri. And when the time came when he pushed himself over that edge, he would gratefully accept it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry, I feel like a horrible person for making Otabek suffer like that ;-; Give him all the hugs <3
> 
> Let me know what you think of it ^^
> 
> [PunkyPenguin](https://punky-penguin.tumblr.com)  
> Proud member of the [Otayuri Writers Collective](http://otayuriwriterscollective.tumblr.com/)


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